Kiss Me
by Black-Rose-117
Summary: Sherlock can't stop dreaming about John. Does John think the same things about Sherlock? Will they act on it?


John finished wrapping the final bandage around Sherlock's arm, the wounds from the glass were healing nicely, but they still needed care and attention. John gently squeezed the bandages so they would stay, watching Sherlock wince slightly in pain.

"Your good now, Sherlock." John said, standing once he was finished with the bandages and starting to pack away the supplies in his medical bag.

"Thank you..." Sherlock said, standing as well and walking over to his favorite arm chair.

He slumped into it, his head propped up on his hand on the arm rest and his feet dangling over the other side. He watched John closely as he cleaned up, a slight glint in his eyes. -How much longer...- He thought, -...until he kisses me...- Sherlock moaned at the thought, finding it silly to let himself slip into that sort of being, and flipped onto his back, staring at the ceiling.

"You alright there, Sherlock?" John asked in the middle of packing a needle into his case, stopping and staring at his lover.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Sherlock answered in the most bored tone he could achieve.

Sherlock shut his eyes, thinking of napping, hopping to pass some time when he felt his chair rock and a hand on his face. He opened his eyes slowly to see John lingering over him.

"You sound terribly bored..." John said, a mischievous light entering his green/blue eyes. "Let me help you with that..."

John's hand, cradling Sherlock's cheek, slowly guided Sherlock up, up until there were only a few inches standing between him and John's perfect lips.

"Kiss me..." John whispered so soft, so gently, that Sherlock could fell the knots in his stomach and himself getting hard.

John's eyes were locked with Sherlock's, drawing him in deeper and deeper into a trace. A magical, mystical trace.

"Kiss me..." John whispered again, this time closer. So close that the words made John's lips graze his, getting him hungry for what was to soon come.

Sherlock grabbed the back of John's neck lightly resting his hand there. Slowly, he pulled down, bring John down onto his lips. Sherlock felt his eyes flutter closed as John pressed his lips a little harder down on Sherlock's. Sherlock slide his hand up John's jacket, letting it rest in the nick of his back.

John pulled back and looked at Sherlock. His hand left Sherlock's cheek and slide down to Sherlock's trousers. Without breaking eye contact, John slowly started to undo Sherlock's zipper and button. When he got them undone, John pulled on the leg of Sherlock's trousers, letting him know he wanted them off. So, Sherlock arched his back and John slid them off, along with his underwear. John stared at Sherlock, and whispered "Why do I still have mine on?"

Sherlock, shocked and excited slowly reached down for John's button and zipper, undoing them both and taking off the pants and underwear that remained between them. As soon as they were down and around John's ankles, he kicked them off and had Sherlock sit up, normal, in his armchair. John sat on his knees, sitting on Sherlock's lap facing him, his eyes glinting with excitement. Forcefully, all at once, before Sherlock could react, John pressed his hips into Sherlock's and kissed him roughly. John felt Sherlock getting harder and hard as he was too. He grind faster and more forcefully, listening to Sherlock moan in pain and pleasure. Sherlock grabbed John's ass and squeezed, pulling him closer in the pain. John giggled and pulled back, biting Sherlocks ear.

"Sherlock... Sherlock..." John purred in happiness. "Sherlock... Sherlock..."

His voice started to sound farther and farther away, deepening and getting less loving... More worried...

"Sherlock... Sherlock..!" Farther and farther... "Sherlock.. Sherlock!"

John was hovering over Sherlock, fully clothed. He had his bag at his side and a hand on Sherlock's forehead. "Are you okay?" He asked, bending down next to his arm chair, taking his hand off of Sherlock's forehead and setting his bag on the floor.

"I guess..." Sherlock said sitting up. "Was it all a dream..?"

"A dream?" John questioned. "What of?"

"You... Kissed me..." Sherlock said slowly.

"Oh." John said standing. "Just a dream Sherlock. Not to worry."

He started into the kitchen to put his bag away. Sherlock jumped up and followed.

"John wait! How long has it been? I mean, us, together?" Sherlock said, having two hands on a wall, supporting himself between them.

"Uhh... A week?" John said, thinking.

"And... Are you ever going to kiss me?"

"Do you want me to?" John asked, setting his bag on the counter and leaning on it, looking at Sherlock.

"Well... Maybe... I guess... Yes..." Sherlock stuttered.

"Then maybe I will." John said walking over to Sherlock and pressing him against a wall with his body.

Sherlock stood there, locking eyes with John.

"Or maybe..." John said, backing off of Sherlock. "...I'll get you when you least expect it."

With that, John grabbed his bag and went to his room, leaving Sherlock there, back to the wall, hard as a rock.


End file.
